Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lesotho and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing ABBA to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxette,
Joy Division,
The Gories,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
Youth Brigade,
The Monks,
cv313,
Tears for Fears,
Toni Rubio,
The Moleskins,
Warren Ellis,
Magazine,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Television Personalities,
Mr. Review,
Fugazi,
X-Ray Spex,
Theoretical Girls,
Joey Negro,
Bob Dylan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crooked Eye,
Erasure,
The Busters,
the Normal,
Talk Talk,
The Dead C,
Oneida,
Scrapy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tom Boy,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
Quadrant,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Television,
the Slits,
Urselle,
Eden Ahbez,
U.S. Maple,
Inner City,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bush Tetras,
Smog,
The Slits,
Ultimate Spinach,
Intrusion,
The Human League,
Skriet,
Von Mondo,
The Saints,
Qualms,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.